M/M Novels, Historical and Contemporary…Erin O'Quinn

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“Historical, intellectual and deeply passionate in scope…”

I don’t make a habit of re-printing reviews of my own titles. In this case, I’m moved to do it because I think Stag Heart is one of those rare pieces of my writing in which the lyric and the erotic vie for dominance. One person was moved to write about it, and so I present part of a review by a man I know only as “Bo,” who posts his opinions on Goodreads and Amazon.

He probably will never see this article, but I thank him with a full heart.

🦌 STAG HEART 🌱🍃🌿

Bo says that Stag Heart is “a tale that’s an intricately–but delicately–woven exposition of scholarship and military training punctuated by a romance so sweetly developed … as real as if it were happening today.”

Somewhere in the “Pages” section of another blog, you’ll find the first eight chapters* of a novel titled Sleeping with Danger.It’s the work where Aidan Williamson makes his first appearance. I thought today I’d reveal my first draft of the first chapter of another work. The novella is Spilled Passion, third of the new series “Aidan Undercover.”

If you like mystery with man-on-man love interest…if your ear is bent to quirky people and a cops-and-criminal vibe…and especially if you have a soft spot for bonnie auld Scotland… Look no farther.

Chapter 1Hollow Places

Aidan Williamson lay basking in a dream, the kind of fantasy he used to have, back when he was a boy just discovering the pubic nest, the fledgling cock, the joy of release.

He was flying, he was soaring, higher and higher. Some ache far inside his ass was propelling him upward, to the sun…

In October of 2017 cocky, alpha-male Irishman, Colin Campbell, Sergeant in Charge of the Special Assault Unit of the University of Virginia Campus Police Force, dove in front of a bullet meant for a University of Virginia student. The bullet shattered his thigh and severed his femoral artery, a wound which nearly took Colin’s life and left him temporarily disabled. His infirmities robbed him of the strength and athletic prowess which had been his for most of his life leaving him humiliated and bereft.

When Colin was shot, his partner, Joshua Abrams, a Doctor of Psychology at the Rainier Clinic in Charlottesville, never once left his side. He…

Like this:

For this week’s poem, and in honor of #NaPoWriMo, I wanted to share Emily Dickinson’s “Tell all the Truth but tell it slant.”

I like to believe I live a life for Truth and in Truth even though we live, unfortunately, in a world of Lies. I came across this poem a few days ago, and it seemed perfect at the time, particularly because one of the overarching themes of my WIP is…DRUMROLL… Truth. I’ve been examining the consequences of what living in a world constructed of lies does to a person and how they will act and/or react when faced with Truth.

But the truth is, I’ve been having quite the dilemma with this poem. First of all, I’m interpreting it as Dickinson telling us to always tell the absolute truth–the only one there is. However, she claims we should do it in snippets—gradually and indirectly so others…

I found this book through the author in a Facebook group for LGBT Writers, and okay, I wasn’t convinced at first, but something about the description got me. Something like, do it for the rowdy Scottish Highlander aesthetic. And oh boy, I was not disappointed.

The only thing I’d say took me by surprise is that it’s advertised as an enemies-to-lovers romance, when I found it to be a little more like a bad-first-impression-and-then-everything-goes-smoothly romance. Not that I mind, in fact I’d say the latter is a slightly healthier alternative, I just expected a little more spice in that aspect.

Another little thing that kind of annoyed me was that Grier’s and Iain’s plans always went right. I get that…

I have long been in thrall to bonnie Scotland: her language, music, history, people, mythos, traditions. And I found recently that I’m descended from Clan MacGregor, a family that had its shares of ups and downs. (I refer you to a recent article I published on another blog site, Celtic Fire, called “Children of the Mist”: https://bit.ly/2OS4kzH).

So, what could be more natural than a novel about a MacGregor?

Here’s a tentative blurb and a fanciful cover, which I shall *not use:

One man is stripped of his name, his tartan, and his weapon. Another is torn from his very homeland, forced to live in danger and deceit. What happens when an unkilted Scot meets a runaway Colonial Quaker?

Can Grier and Will, born enemies, live together? Fight together? Can they combine the best of themselves and set aside the grief of their past? The future of bonnie Scotland…

Erin O’Quinn’s Nevada Highlander series is unique: M/M adventure from Nevada to Scotland, with an emphasis on action, plot, and character.

I’m always careful to make each novel a stand-alone, appealing to the reader who comes across the series maybe somehere in the middle and wants to jump in without a lot of prior reading. In that spirit, the opening chapters of each successive story will contain enough background that anyone can easily understand the present one.

Here’s a thumbnail of the series:

Nevada Highlander: A big game hunt in the mountains of Nevada attracts two opposite men:A Scottish tourist—handsome playboy Rory Drummond—and shy, serious Nevada State Trooper Alex Dominguez, the man set on his tail to keep him in line. When the two men find each other irresistible, sparks and Levi’s fly!

The Kilt Complex: Ex-cop Alex finds himself on the cold shore of the North Sea, festering in the “boy toy” role of his well-meaning lover Rory. When Alex breaks out of the mold, declaring his own identity, both men find themselves embroiled in a case of extortion and murder—one that will test their new relationship to the max.

Hunter’s Point:The former Nevada cop is now a Police Scotland special constable. On the eve of Scotland’s passing its same-sex marriage bill, Rory and Alex have more pressing matters to confront: a drowned local teacher, an evil shadow from Rory’s past, and a killer who’s targeted both of them. The drama plays out on a stretch of lonely, beautiful land where only the fittest will survive.

Sleeping with Danger:When Rory and Alex find their ideal getaway—a remote aerie in the Highlands—they also find a few devils have poked leathery wings into their heaven in the form of kidnapping, extortion, and murder most foul. On the trail of a missing man, they find a Jacobite tower hiding recent violence…a 300-year-old elbow of the devil…and a graveyard whose crumbling bones cover old secrets worth killing for.

Through each book, the relationship between the Scot and the cop is both the fuse and the bomb, as each story explodes in passion and heart-rattling action.

In this latest novel, an old friend of Rory’s father is missing. The Scot and his constable lover gain permission to go to the Highlands juristiction of Police Scotland to search for him. What they find is chilling; and what happens to them nearly costs them their lives.

Here’s an explicit excerpt from an early chapter, on the verge of their trip…

Using the edges of the tub, he hauled himself out of the soapy water and stood looking down at his kneeling companion. “Lie back, Rory. And face me. Now.”

He could not explain a sudden need to take this dominant man, make him shout until he was hoarse.

“Is that an order, Alejo?”

“Si, cabrón.”

Rory’s mustache lifted under an evil smile. “Gang warily.”

The Drummond Clan cry, the one Rory had directed to be engraved on their rings. Go carefully.

They rarely fucked in the missionary position—mainly because Rory was usually too impatient to turn him on his ass instead of his belly. Also because the big guy invariably struggled for dominant position.

But tonight Alex was a beast. He was willing to crack the goddamn marble tub to get his way.

“A highland fuck, Rory. Legs up. A ride to the peak.”

He saw the smolder in the man’s sea-green eyes, knew him well enough to sense the moment of surrender.

He knelt between Rory’s raised thighs and leaned into his mouth. His prick knew the way well enough, below the swollen testes, past the taint, into the cumberland gap, up the trail of tears…

He timed his tongue-sucks with his measured thrusts. Once or twice he pulled away from the open mouth to watch the face, the way his partner’s glazed-over eyes rolled back…loving the slack of his jaw, the grunts of desire, the chipped-flint of his nipples.

When he could not hold back, when Rory’s tunnel began to buck and shiver and jump, when he heard the guttural bellow of his lover’s release, he came in a cascade of hot need.